Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Healing Elixir

SHUT UP AND GET WELL SOON. Well, it’s January and I am smack dab in the middle of my usual winter affliction. The doc called it bronchitis but my both of my regular readers, my few remaining friends, family, ancient aliens and myself all refer to it as the Creeping Crud.

I get it every year about this time.

Drugs do not work on the Creeping Crud. I even begged the doc for a prescription for some radioactive heroin cough syrup.

She agreed, and even told the pharmacist to double up on the ingredients. ”Get some of that extra strong radioactive poison the Chinese have been putting in our food imports,” she instructed the druggist with a wink.

I took a big swig of the doggone stuff even though I knew it wouldn’t work.

I was right. It didn’t work. And, lordy, did it ever taste bad! Almost as bad as sweet cornbread.

I remembered my Grandmother Graves’s traditional Irish cure. She must have known about the family frailty in front of the Creeping Crud, and she had an old family remedy which certain hellion members of the clan probably smuggled across the Atlantic.

She’d mix hot water, lemon juice, some honey and a heaping spoonful of bourbon and have us swallow a big gulp. She said it was a Hot Toddy, I guess that’s an Irish medical term.

Well, there were a lot of us, and it seemed that we’d all get sick at the same time if we were visiting her. Even the ones that weren’t sick got in line for that Irish elixir.

She couldn’t keep up with who had already had his or her dose. After swallowing, we’d return to the back of the line and fib to her about not already being dosed. She’d give us another shot. And another.

Finally she caught on. “There’s not 20 of you so I know some of you are just like your uncles on my side of the family, and you keep getting back in line for more of the cure.”

That meant the medical treatment was over. It was alright because at that point the patients were giggling and didn’t care.

I do remember one time this Irish grandmother showed us how to dance an Irish Jig she may have learned from her own grandmother whilst getting authentic family medical treatment.

But the sad truth is that neither the Irish Jig nor the family’s Irish Hot Toddy recipe can prevail against the Creeping Crud.

All is not lost! There’s another time-honored cure attempt for this disease. And this one actually works. I am (still) living proof.

Moms, feel free to write this down for future medical reference.

Remove the shoes and socks of the afflicted little darling no matter his or her age. It works well equally for toddlers or for persons who no longer worry about being old enough to have an ID check for an Irish Hot Toddy.

Coat the feet — top and bottom — liberally with Vicks Vaporub. Do not substitute a cheap imitation.

Replace the socks and shoes.

Do not remove the socks or shoes, even when the precious little darling goes to bed. They should wear the same socks and shoes for a minimum of 24 hours.

If this does not cure you, the smell will cause your housemates will put you outside where they hope you will die of exposure.

Burn the shoes and socks when good health is achieved.

6 5 5 6 5 6 5 5 6

AND SUDDENLY it’s the Clemson Tigers. Virtually no one in my field of vision expected Clemson to defeat Alabama for the national college football title. And certainly not by that big 44-16 margin.

Let me predict right now that Clemson will not repeat as national champs. Their colors are purple and orange, for crying out loud, and surely the football gods would not let that horrible combination win again. Orange and black would be okay.

6 5 5 6 5 6 5 5 6

SPEAKING OF SOCKS. For Christmas someone gave me four pairs of socks — each pair adorned with the likeness of one of these famous leaders — George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Benjamin Franklin and Donald Trump.

Something really strange has happened.

When I wear the George W. or Honest Abe socks, I cannot tell a lie. But when I wear the Donald socks, some fact free and troubling stuff tumbles out of my mouth.

Also, the Trump socks came with the warning that they could cause bone spurs in time of war.

When I wear those Benjamin Franklin socks I want to go outside and fly a kite in a storm.

WORD GAMES. Another set of twins: Sweet and Low. There’s something artificial about them.

6 5 5 6 5 6 5 5 6

HE SAID: “Learn to enjoy every minute of your life. Be happy now. Don’t wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future. Think how really precious is the time you have to spend, whether it’s at work or with your family. Every minute should be enjoyed and savored.” Earl Nightingale, motivational speaker.

6 5 5 6 5 6 5 5 6

SHE SAID: “Oh, I would love to be a motivational speaker. I have pulled myself out of a million potholes, and I can see the potholes ahead of me. That doesn’t mean that I could always do that so perfectly for my own life. I totally fall in potholes.” Drew Barrymore, actress